


Less than Love More than Lust

by SlytherDrina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All Is Fair in Love and War, Bigender, Bisexual, Cheating, Coming Out, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gay, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Strippers & Strip Clubs, The L Word - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherDrina/pseuds/SlytherDrina
Summary: As Harry and co. grow up and mature, they realize that everything is not what it seems and even such simple and sweet things as sex and love are much more complicated. Realization, awakening, drama, and scandal revolve around them as they dig deeper and explore their sexuality.Loosely based on 'The L Word'Warning: language





	Less than Love More than Lust

**Author's Note:**

> If you are against LGBTQ then there is something wrong with you and you definitely shouldn't read this story, but go visit a therapist, just in case.  
> If you aren't against LGBTQ but have no interest in a story revolving around this community and its problems, its ok, but this story isn't for you.
> 
> To all others: ENJOY!

Hermione went through her usual route at the Ministry. With her Latte to go no sugar please in one hand and a briefcase and her daily planner in the other, she easily maneuvered through the usual morning crowd at the ministry towards the lifts. She noticed nothing in front of her: she was re-checking her to-do list. She slipped into the lift and pressed her usual floor number. Several people walked after her, most of them staring at her as though she was Merlin himself: being a war hero was still equivalent to a gold star celebrity among wizards. But Hermione was used to the stares. In fact, she appeared not to notice them. 

Nothing made the Muggleborn raise her head, not even the baby dragon, that sneezed fireballs, carried by a fragile-looking witch. She took no notice of the noisy German wizard, that was complaining loudly about said dragon in a beginner's English, nor the awed twelve-year-old witch, that couldn't stop staring at the war hero, starstruck. 

Just as the doors of the lift were about to close with a loud screeching noise, in flew a breathtaking fragrance. It smelled as if millions of roses and peonies were carried out into the freezing winter: the wearer of such a perfume seemed to be a cold, reserved person, yet a caring and passionate, if not a bit obsessive, lover. Hermione didn't understand where such inappropriate thoughts came from. She raised her head to see the source of the fragrance. It was a tall, beautiful, pale platinum blonde. The woman wore her long hair in an elegant bun. Her sharp aristocratic facial features were accented by a dramatic cat eye, bright red lipstick and a faint cute blush on her high cheekbones. She was dressed like Hermione imagined a rich muggle lawyer to be dressed: in a black pencil above the knee skirt, expensive custom-made shirt and a professional-looking vest. Some expensive, yet simple jewelry glinted under the electric lights. She had a dragon skinned Diabolique Sorciere bag in her left hand and a chart in an unfamiliar to Hermione (which was a first) language. The only thing off about the whole ensemble were her well-manicured, but uncharacteristically short for a person dressed like that nails.  
Something about the newcomer was familiar, but the Muggleborn couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was.

Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from the witch. She was drawing her in.  
"Ms. Granger?" called the parent of the eleven-year-old. "Ms. Granger? Isn't this your floor?" But Hermione appeared not to hear. Taking the silence for a no, the parent and the slightly offended girl got off the creaky elevator. The doors slid closed and the lift went further down, as Hermione continued to ogle at the blonde. She barely noticed that they were the only two in the lift. 

They reached the last floor and the blonde stepped out. "Aren't you coming, Ms. Granger? It's the last floor, " she called, her voice cool, with a faint exotic accent, not tearing her blue eyes off the chart after Hermione appeared to be frozen on the spot.  
'Oh, Merlin!' Hermione thought 'That voice might just kill me!'

Then reality hit Hermione. "Yes!" she said a bit too quickly and practically jumped off the lift. The strange witch turned to walk to the courtrooms. The Muggleborn looked around and noticed the black door, that held so many painful childhood memories: the door to the department of mysteries. That would be her excuse. Faking confidence, she started walking surely towards the door.

"Hermione?" the blonde called. 

Granger stopped in her tracks and shyly turned around to face the witch, that looked at her square in the eye. "Y-yes?" she asked shakily.

"Have a good day" replied the blonde before turning around and proceeding to go further down. 

"Thanks" called out Hermione awkwardly. "You too"

She continued taking shaking steps towards the door to the Department. Once she reached it, she stood there for a full minute, trying to get herself together. She took a big breath and started quietly banging her head on the door. "I. Am. Not. A. Lesbian," she muttered through gritted teeth, angry at herself. "I simply haven't had enough sleep. The healer did say that my lack of proper rest will catch up to me eventually" she reassured herself before repeating: "I. Am. Not. A. Lesbian."

"Having second thoughts about dating Weasel-boy, are we, Granger?" came a familiar drooling voice. In came an arrogant blond, that made her school life difficult. 

"None, of your business, Malfoy" even though the Trio was on more or less friendly terms with Draco Malfoy since the War, he could be quite an arse at times. 

"Aw, 'Mione" Draco came closer. "It's OK to be gay, you know. Besides, now you can't say no, to trying to make a Pride Parade an official holiday." The ex-Death Eater was gay and had no intention of hiding it. The Pride Parade was the only Muggle thing Draco was interested in. 

"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm straight" bit back Hermione. 

"Yeah, right," said Malfoy not believing her one bit. "What are you doing here, on this floor, anyway?"

"Non. Of. Your. Business" Hermione nearly screamed before storming off to the lifts, instantly regretting her treatment of Malfoy. 

MMMMMMMMMM

Ginny Weasley was exhausted after practice, but, unfortunately, she didn't have time to lose. So as soon as the coach let them go, she ignored her friends and ran down to the changing rooms. She threw her broomstick into her locker, gulped down a bottle of water, stripped out of her Quidditch uniform and ran into the showers. She washed quickly, dried and straightened her hair with a quick spell, dressed into formal robes, with the help of magic put on her makeup. She was all ready for taking the interview just in time for her teammates to arrive. 

She gave them a hasty goodbye while stuffing her mouth with a protein bar, which caused several girls to laugh. 

"Oh, Ginny" sighed her friend Annie. "Just sit down for a minute. These two jobs would be the death of you."

"Can't. I lo' 'em bouf" she said through her stuffed mouth. After chewing it all through and gulping down half of the bar, she continued, "Gotta be great. Gotta go down in history."

"You are such a Slytherin. How the heck did you trick the Hat to put you in Gryffindor?" Annie, who used to be a Hufflepuff in her Hogwarts years asked. But Ginny didn't grace her with a reply. She simply winked and hurried towards the out if view fireplace.

What met her on the other side wasn't pleasant at all. Running, yelling, havoc, ruin and in the middle of all this bigender and currently female Blaise Zabini and of course Alec. 

"Ve 'ave enough femme, silly girl!" bellowed Alec.

"I don't care! I am a woman right now, and I can't change that!" yelled Zabini in return.

"We, we the famous models came here from our vacation and you don't deem it necessary to give us a private room to regain our powers?" Parvati Patil tried to get Alec's attention, with Lavander Brown showing her agreement by nodding and constantly saying 'yeah' and 'uhuh'.

Alec looked at the pair with a mad glint in his eye.

"I 'AVE TOLD YOU MANY A TIME, I AM NOT SOME SERVAN' AND ZIS IS NO' A CINQUE STAR 'OTELLE! JOIN ZE OZER MODELZ, SO NOT VASTE MY PRECIOUS TIME!"

Ginny wasn't feared in her school years for nothing. Without wasting any time, she took out her wand and cast a Silencio on the room.

She regarded everyone with an evil eye before saying in a cold and demanding tone: "I came here to work with quidditch stars, tailors, fashion icons, stylists, and models. NOT to babysit a bunch of preschoolers. please act according to your age and status."

She looked over the entire room before continuing in an even quieter and scarier voice, "Now. I am going to remove the silencing spell. And you are going to behave. Understood?" the occupants of the room nodded. 

Ginny did as promised, but the change was non-existent. No one made a sound. 

"Lizzie, please be so kind and show Miss Brown and Miss Patil to a private room." 

The petite woman regained her composure, nodded and walked up to the pair. The room remained silent as she did what was asked of her: the only sound was the clink of the heals against the marble. 

As soon as the door closed behind the trio, Ginny turned back to face Alec. 

"Do not tell me that you don't have room for a woman"

 

MMMMMMMMMM

 

"Sir! Master! It's time for master Harry to wake up! Sir!"

Harry woke up with a groan. A pair of round shaped glasses were gently pushed down his nose by little hands and the room came into focus. And so, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, or, as he preferred, Harry Potter came face to face with none other than old Kreacher the house elf. He (Kreacher) came to Harry's possession after his (Harry's) Godfather's tragic death, along with the house, a big vault stuffed with gold, and a title of Lord Black.

Grimmauld Place bore no resemblance of the dusty old thing it was the first time Harry stepped foot in it. The dark, gothic, if not aristocratic demeanor was replaced by a cheerful simplistic modern style, a courtesy of none other than Gabriele Delacour a now-famous French home designer and Harry's old 'friend'.

"Good morning, master!" the elf greeted cheerfully. 

Harry let out another groan. He automatically reached out to his left but was left with an empty, per usual, mattress. Ginny was always up before sunrise, unless she was extremely ill, working her arse off. Morning sex, or cuddling with a cup of coffee was never a thing Harry experienced.

"Good morning, Kreacher" he grumped. 

With his left hand, Harry searched the bed for the usual note his girlfriend left him.  
Seeing this, Kreacher's cheerful smile turned into a pained grimace and his big floppy ears dropped.

"Master's Ginny left in such a hurry, sir. Master's Ginny had no time to leave a note, sir. Kreacher is so sorry. " the house elf mumbled.

Little motivation Harry had for the day ahead left him, making Harry feel horribly weak. 

"It's OK, Kreacher, it's not your fault," he said automatically so that the house-elf wouldn't feel bad. 

Harry reached out for his MirPhone: a wizard equivalence of a muggle cell phone, a technology made by two Russian wizards and a Japanese witch. It was similar to the mirrors the Mauradors used to communicate, only it wasn't one-way, had a pleasant melody when someone was ringing and could send audio, video and text messages.

Harry looked through the messages, hoping that Ginny at least sent him a text. The more he scrolled, the worse he felt: there were drunk texts from Ron, concerned ones fromHermione, a weird and extremely awkward video message from Mr. Weasley (he was curious about the use of muggle air vents and shared his theories), an excited text from George (he invented some new way to mess with people). He even got some from the fans. But none of them were what he really needed at the moment. 

Kreacher still looked miserable as he gave his master a glass of water, that Harry downed immediately, and a cup of coffee. 

Harry sipped on his coffee, seemingly deep in thought, as the house-elf busied himself with picking out the right outfit. When the cup was dry, the Boy-Who-Lived put on the offered sports costume, took a black labrador that was dutifully named Padfoot after Sirius Black's nickname, and, forgetting to do his usual push-ups, pull-ups, and whatnot, went for a not-so-needed run in Muggle London. 

Harry Potter highly doubted that he would work out the Muggle way if he wasn't dating Ginny Weasley. Ever since she got into a professional Quidditch team, she tried to lead an extremely healthy lifestyle and forced it on anyone who'd listen. 

Harry returned home and tried to force some porridge into his system but was unable to do so, so he simply put on his robes and flooed off to work. 

MMMMMMMMMM

Ronald Weasley's day wasn't off to a good start either. He woke up when the alarm clock went off, making him feel as though somebody was repeatedly banging him on the head with a giant bell. He covered his ears with his hands and yelled for the alarm to stop, until it miraculously, in Ron's opinion, did so. With a sigh of relief, he fell back onto the bed. For a moment he considered not going anywhere, before his older brother's words flooded in: "Ron, you are our brother and all, but if you will be late one more time, or if you take a day off, I'll have to fire you"

With that in mind, the youngest male Weasley got off the bed, downed a vial of hangover cure and went into the kitchen. There, waiting for him, was a plate of homemade waffles and a glacé, kept magically warm by his smart and wonderful girlfriend, who soon became not-so-wonderful when Ron noticed a note on the plate, saying how irresponsible and childish he is acting. He threw away the note, pulled up a chair and dug in.

MMMMMMMMMM

 

Pansy took a deep sigh as she texted Padma that she would come to work late, again.

They were fighting for the thousandth time. It was as if Astoria Greengrass wanted to pick a fight. As if she enjoyed it. Being bisexual didn't help Pansy at all, her girlfriend only used that against her, accusing her of liking not only any moderately attractive females but non-ugly males as well. And now what was the reason Greengrass was mad? Just about Pansy co-operating with a very straight Padma Patil to make a new cosmetic line. 

Pansy tried the usual approach, that often times calmed the slightly paranoid witch down. But this time, it only aggravated her more. Astoria continued shouting, but now she was also waving her wand around, causing havoc. Trying to not get cursed, Pansy ran out of the way, but, unfortunately, a couple of spells hit her, and now Parkinson was covered in paint, sparks, soot, and her skirt caught fire to boot. While she tried to save her clothes, she didn't notice that Astoria wasted no time packing.

"I AM OUT OF THIS HOUSE, YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH!" were her final words as she ran out of the door, slamming it dramatically. Pansy stood up and ran after her, but it was too late. Greengrass had already apparated off. 

Her legs weak, Pansy Parkinson stumbled back into her flat and unto the nearest soft surface, which happened to be the sofa. Once there, she curled up into a ball and started rolling back and forth. 

MMMMMMMMMM

 

"Nous 'ave enough female'. Nous don' 'ave enough garçon!" wailed Alec theatrically.

"Alec, have you ever considered a job as an actor?" asked Ginny as she put her thumb and index finger onto her nose.  
"Actually I 'ave!" the dramatic French man resumed a normal position of a sane human being. "Apparan' I was too goo' for zem. But back on ze topic: no model agency vill give us a male model in time!"

"Of course they did" whispered Ginny to herself, referring to 'zem'. "And of course the won't" she added a bit louder, referring to the agencies.

"Everyone, get to work!" she yelled at the assembled crowd. "You too, Alec!"

Then she appeared to calm herself down as the pissed off French man waddled through the crowd away from her.

"Blaise, may I please have a word outside?" she said loudly but softly.

Ms. Zabini huffed but followed the redhead into the corridor. 

Once outside, Ginny turned to face the bigender. 

"Blaise, please understand our situation here, we have more than enough girls, who are of course nothing compared to you, but we need men" she begged quietly.

"Oh, honey, I understand, but there is nothing I can help you with" replied the model, walking down the corridor.

"Please, just pretend to be a man. Please. I know you know how" cried the Quidditch star, hurrying to keep up. 

"No!" shouted Blaise, slamming the door to the girl's bathroom open. It was empty. "I'm done hiding!"

Ginny followed the model in, closing the door behind her softly. "Please, Blaise, I'll do anything!" Why were models so hard to work with?

"I'm sorry, Ginny" the woman looked truly apologetic. "But I can't. You know the potion I am under will only let me change when I feel like it."

Ginny wasn't acting anymore. She was actually on the verge of tears. "So there is really nothing I can do?" she whispered helplessly.  
A dark glint appeared in Blaise's eyes. It reminded Ginny of the reason she hated Blaise in her school years in the first place. 

"I never said that" the model took a couple of steps towards the redhead, pressing her forehead against the other's and sneaking her arms around her waist. "I said, I'd change when I feel like it. Just make me feel like a man."

"I-I can't" whispered Ginny, trying to get out of Blaise's embrace. But it was too late. The model had her up against the wall, with no way of escape. Ginny tried to reach for her wand, but the Slytherin tossed it on the floor.

"Of course you can. It's true, you do look like with your haircut you'd be a butch lesbian, but if you just pretend that I'm a guy and act super straight, you might have a chance. "

"I-I have a boyfriend" whispered Ginny. 

"Forget about him" Blaise whispered back.

Their lips were inches away.  
'Bloody Slytherin' thought Ginny before something overcame her and she captured the female lips in a kiss. 

MMMMMMMMMM

 

Harry opened the door to his office. He never wanted to go back to bed as much as he wanted to do it now. Very slowly he walked up to his armchair, threw his bag on his desk and called for his secretary. As soon as the attractive seventeen-year-old witch hurried in, he let his body drop into his chair.

"What took you so long?" he snapped at her. The girl looked shocked. Harry never treated his employees like that. 

"Mr. Potter, I'm sorry, I came in as soon as I heard you call!" she sounded terrified.

Harry realized his mistake. He never wanted to take out his anger on others, but he accidentally slipped.  
"Melissa, I'm so sorry! I've never met to scare you. I don't know what came over me." he hurried to fix his mistake. 

The shocked girl nodded. 

"Just bring me some coffee" 

Melissa hurried to comply. Meanwhile, Head Auror Potter took a big stack of papers, left from Friday and unenthusiastically busied himself with paperwork. Not five minutes passed, in came a familiar arrogant blond. Harry groaned, he so not needed this encounter.

"Good morning, golden boy!" greeted Draco cheerfully, leaning on the doorframe.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Harry through gritted teeth. 

"I will most certainly not" the blond drooled on. "What is up with you and Granger today? She screamed her head off at me when she stood in front of the door to the Department of Mysteries"

"What was she doing at the Department of Mysteries?" Harry wondered aloud, as Melissa brought in his coffee.

"Trying to convince herself that she wasn't a lesbian," replied Malfoy, as though girls screaming that they weren't gay next to his department's door was the most usual thing.

The Chosen One looked dumbly at Malfoy for a full minute, before saying, "You know what? I don't even want to know!"

"Good idea" the blond muttered, walked up to the Head Auror's desk and unapologetically sat on it.  
Harry ignored Draco's rude behavior in favor of searching for something in his drawers. He then took out a flask, with the help of magic vanished a quarter of coffee and poured in some liquid from the flask. 

"Is that vodka?" asked Malfoy, astonished. 

"Yes" was Harry's short answer. 

"Why are you pouring vodka into your morning coffee?"

Harry closed the flask and looked at Malfoy angrily.

"Because it's Monday and I am all out of Irish Cream!" he snapped. 

"Look who's grumpy" Draco shot Harry a charming smile. "I can make you feel better, you know" with those words the Slytherin spawled himself down on the desk. 

"Fuck off" 

"I am more than willing to do the fuck part" the annoying git whispered seductively.

Harry had a horrible want to use an Unforgivable. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. 

"By your actions, I deduce that you, Unspeakables, have absolutely nothing to do. The day barely started and you are nowhere near your floor. Should I speak with Kingsley, and make sure that you and your poor buddies won't die of boredom?" Harry spoke dangerously quiet, staring down at Draco's plastered body with distaste. 

"Oh, Potter, the smart words, combined with a long sentence, nonetheless! Intelligence suits you" the blond grabbed the Head Auror by the collar and started pulling him down, their faces inches apart.

"Makes me want you right here, right now" whispered Malfoy into the brunette's ear.

At those words, Harry Potter lost it. "Out!" he screeched loudly, and with a flip of his wand threw Malfoy loudly out of the room, locking the door behind him. 

Malfoy stood in front of the door, dumbly staring at the piece of wood that separated him from the closeted Harry Potter aka Draco's future boyfriend. He sighed and whispered to himself, "Fucking Mondays" and slowly strolled down the corridor, finally heading to his department, or searching for another soul to torture, only Merlin knew. 

 

MMMMMMMMMM

 

A moan escaped Ginny's mouth, her nipples hard against the cold wooden door of the stall, as a female Blaise pleasured her more than any guy ever did. Reaching an orgasm, Ginny prayed to Magic herself that nobody heard, or Merlin-forbid walked in on the two women. After the wonderful feeling came through the redhead's body, the Italian witch took her by the shoulders, roughly turned her around, smacking Ginny's shoulder blades against the hard wood, making the Chaser take a sharp intake of breath and started to kiss her obsessively and violently. At first, Ginny submissively let her, and gingerly, as though asking for permission, kissed back. But her fiery side didn't let her obey the model for long: soon she wrestled Zabini and quickly changed places: now the ex Slytherin was the one against the wall, having no escape between the hard wood and the muscular female body. But the genderfluid didn't let herself be bossed around: she easily manipulated their movements to be the one on top, deepening the kiss, even biting, and drawing blood. But she again was against the wall and she was the one bleeding. 

The pair proceeded to fight for control: they were soon out of the cubicle and in the main bathroom, into which anyone could come.  
Finally, Blaise gave up and Ginny won. As if to show off her trophy, the Quidditch star easily lifted the lean bronze body of the model onto the table of conjoined wash basins.

Lifting Zabini's thighs onto her broad shoulders, Ginny buried her head in between the other woman's legs.

**Author's Note:**

> My fics are usually much darker than this, so this is my first  
> Please tell me what you think!  
> Love ya!  
> Byeee


End file.
